An Old Soldier Fades Away

[Vi Shooter]

Hey VI,

Sorry for the loss of your hero.

Read more than once that soldiers in battle consider combat medics to be the bravest men on the field.

Regards,

LB

Combat Medics go up against the same dangers as Combat Infantrymen for the most part but don't get to carry arms and have to ignore the hell around them to help their squad mates. Until March, 1945 the Combat Medic didn't get any recognition in the form of combat pay ($10 a month) or badges like the Combat Infantrymen. The Combat Medical Badge on Dad's Ike jacket was a long time coming and came kind of late in my opinion.

I never saw anything scare Dad except the loss of Mom. He had me go first and decide if the casket would be open or closed. Looking at Mom in her casket was the only time I ever saw him with tears in his eyes. Everything else in life was to be faced (or faced down), as need be. Whatever fears he had, he faced stoically with no complaints.

Some of my memories from T/5 Henry:

Dad said the grease stain on his Medic's armband was from the German tank that ran over him (his training was to dive for the space between the tracks). One of his squad mates wasn't so lucky; the tank that he dove under stopped over him and sank in the mud.

Dad said he went through about six of the red cross helmets. When I asked why, he said, "The Germans kept shootin' at 'em." He lost one helmet when he tripped and it bounced into the road ahead of him and a German machine gunner ripped it up.

One time at the Great Western gun show, we saw a Johnson Light Machine Gun on display. It reminded him of a time that a certain gunner stopped shooting the LMG to switch helmets and tend the wounded stuck between opposing forces on the banks of a river. He never actually said who the gunner/Medic was.

When he took me to see the Catch-22 movie, his comment about the dis-embowelment scene was, "I've seen it. It happens sometimes."

His campaign ribbons were for "Bein' there." His Good Conduct Medal was for "Bein' good" (probably for his young bride's sake). He never commented on his Certificate of Merit from the Central Europe Campaign. The local Missouri paper said that Dad "gave no explanation of the award" though he kept the clipping that I'm holding now. I've also got his Mess Card from the USS Enterprise showing that he never missed a meal. Dad said that he got extra meals by borrowing Mess Cards off his seasick bunkies.

Dad was strict about muzzle discipline. One of his Oregon State ASTP classmates was shot in Europe by a squad member cleaning his rifle. He also taught me not to shoot up all my ammo while plinking. "Always walk back to the car with a loaded gun," he said to me once on one of our desert excursions.

Dad was deaf in one ear because the tank his infantry squad was by fired its big gun without warning the foot soldiers. Dad came to in an aid tent with a ruptured eardrum. He didn't get a Purple Heart because he didn't bleed from the injury and Army logic was that "friendly fire" that didn't produce blood didn't count even if the injury was permanent.

One day when we were walking in the snow near Lake Tahoe, Dad stopped and stared for a while at a tree ahead of us. Then he bent over and packed a snow ball and said, "See the crook in that tree? There's a sniper in it." At the count of five, his snowball was falling parallel to the tree trunk at the height of the "sniper's" perch.

I asked Dad once if it was just a story that a man's hair could turn white from fear. He said that after they were shelled one night, one of his squad did have black hair the night before and white hair in the morning. If it ain't true, it oughtta be.

During another shelling, the radioman made the mistake of telling the radio how much the shells were missing by. The next volley was right on top of the radioman.

When I was just a kid, Dad took me to the park near where he was born and showed me a monument with names covering all four sides. Names of men he'd known and gone to school with who gave their lives for their country. Dad never talked about fear or bravery; I don't think he thought the living had a right to.

Thanks, Dad. I'll always keep the best you gave me alive. And while I'm not a gin drinker like you, I will lift a glass of whiskey to you tonight and many times to come.

Information

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[aldo5468]

a long, honorable, productive life - a well-earned rest with all our forefathers who define the term "citizen-soldier"

[tony]

My condolences to you and your family.He was part of the "old breed" from WW2

[Emri]

2K7 said what I always remember... They only fade away when we fail to remember.

Condolences to you and prayers for your family.

A glass is , and will be, raised to him and all the rest.

God Bless,

Emri

[Alvin Linden]

West Point Class rings and dances with Big Bands may be what Hollywood wanted us to think of the "Long Grey Line" and officers

But it was was the young American boys from "Wherever U.S.A." who answered the call of the the 'Thin Red Line" and claimed the victory.

Requiescat in Pace

THANKS FOR SAVING THE WORLD

JERRY

[Bill Hollinger]

My condolences to you and your family, you will be in my prayers this evening. And as you said, here is a toast to your father and mine (Herbert M. Hollinger, Capt. USAAC/AF 1939-1955) and all the WWII vets that have laid down to rest to be with their maker. They are in a better place and watching over us at this very moment. We must show them that their efforts and accomplishments in life were not in vain.

We are losing somewhere around 3000 and day. At that rate we had better start toasting every one of the fine WWII vets that fought for what we have today. And toast those that never came home and never had a proper life nor a chance to live it.

[BEAR]

Art,
This was written for my Dad but I post it now in memory of yours. Please accept my heartfelt condolances for your loss.

The setting sun lights his aging brow
As around him loved ones quietly weep
Reminding him of a familiar parting long ago
When he left for his nation’s honor to keep
Now dim grows the light in his once youthful eyes.
“Do not weep”, whispers he, “All is well, all is well.”


The mournful trumpet calls in the gathering dark
“Strike the tent and cross the river, my son!”
He knows there is no retreat from this final march
So with disciplined step he enters the surging run
With one last backward glance his loved ones so very faint
“Do not fear”, says he, “All is well, all is well.”


The water is dark and cold, but the advance is swift
His eyes suddenly squint against the rising sun
Seeing familiar young men on that opposite bank
With canteen cups raised in salute they welcome him
And as he embraces his comrades old, ...clearly, sweetly
The trumpet calls “Welcome home, All is well, all is well.”

TR

In Memory
Sergeant Major (Ret.) Howard E. Rarick
1920-1999
Charlie Company, 1/506th PIR
101st Airborne Division
June 6th, 1944

[Fredtheobviouspseudonym]

and to all other veterans, whether of sixty years ago or who mustered out yesterday.

Without them this country would be in far worse shape. Those kids who march and squeal protests would, were it not for the veterans, be really hurting every day of their lives.

From the photograph it seems that your father had the Silver Star for valor. Did he ever explain how it was that he received that award?

[Kirk]

Sorry at the lost of your dad. I know you will treasure his memories.

[Hardcase]

We all sleep a little sounder because of the sacrifices that men like your father made. Although none of them will admit it, they are the giants of our nation, the men who made this country great and the world a better place.

His watch is over and now he can rest. Thank God for men like your father and for people like you who cherish their memories.